THE SUN SET over leafy green hills, darkening the Saar Valley. What had been bright moments before lay covered in shadow and from Colonel Freshette’s view, its beauty had washed out of the peaceful, serene panorama. At another time the town below would have seemed ready for sleep.
Through his field glasses the Colonel could see no movement. Intelligence said the town was heavily fortified. He saw no evidence. The Germans were a clever bunch and they were well entrenched. A hush like a…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on February 11, 2017 at 8:03am — No Comments
Light fiction with subtle humor, or as my Australian friends would say, “humour.”
LONG BEFORE I actually laid eyes on the man, I sensed that my relationship with Gordon Tuttle wouldn’t be a source of joy and comfort to either one of us, especially me. What could I expect? His goons had me tied up with duct tape, one of my two favorite products. I love WD-40, too. That’s the other one. I felt I should mention it…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on February 4, 2017 at 7:59am — No Comments
Added by Richard O. Benton on January 28, 2017 at 9:14am — No Comments
SOMETHING GOING ON in the cockpit. I need to get there.
The john is a reasonable request. She nudges her mother in the left seat to get up so I can complete the process. After I’m out, I mention that the back toilets seem to be in use and I’m going up front. I’ve been dismissed. The ladies return to their seats, books and conversation. I wonder why I have to use subterfuge so often.
I make my way forward and get up next to the locked entrance to the cockpit. A flight attendant…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on January 21, 2017 at 6:52am — No Comments
THE JET TAKES off with a mighty push. I feel the raw, irresistible power of its four massive Pratt and Whitney engines. I marvel at the size of the Boeing 747 jetliner I’m riding in. I marvel at the cosmopolitan sense of the passenger-filled plane. No empty seats, I hear. I look around. Some are reading, some are negligently glancing out of their porthole windows and they look utterly bored.
Do they not feel something? Have they all traveled this route so many times before that the…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on January 14, 2017 at 9:41am — No Comments
APOLOGIES TO ANYONE offended by the use of the term, “Indian,” which of course refers to a people we know in this age as Native Americans. Similar frictional situations are public knowledge. The story depicts known friction between races, it's outlet in one case, and a reflection of what I will term western "justice." I hope the reader will see something else within the story, too, that I will not describe, but look for it.
THE MERCILESS SUN beat down. Jennifer and I lay on…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on January 7, 2017 at 9:51am — No Comments
Lannie Mae Richards for many years had embodied the rock upon which her family stood. Raised in a God-fearing household, she carried those lessons through her life and taught them to her children. She broached no compromise with the laxity she saw in “moderns,” as she called them. Now, for the first time in her life it appeared she would have to let others help her do what in her mind anyone could do with ease.
She’d fallen again, not to the floor, but against a filing cabinet. No one…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on December 31, 2016 at 5:14am — No Comments
A Christmas fantasy for the 2016 season.
KRIS STOOD COMFORTABLY, his tweed coat warming him in the chill air. It didn’t hurt him to be standing there denied. He had just finished searching the faces of two men to whom he had revealed himself.
Not like I’ve never been denied before. Two men, one on either side of me, one full of doubt, and the other…absolute denial! Do I try to convince them or just move on? The children believe in me. Isn’t that enough?
Added by Richard O. Benton on December 24, 2016 at 1:56am — No Comments
Hello, you both,
I find it rather interesting that I, who profess to be a writer, am so tardy when it comes to keeping family I love up to date. Excuses I could come up with. After all, I do write fiction. This time I think I'll play it straight. I received your Xmas letter a couple of days ago and printed it out for H. She appears enthralled with the printed page. I can understand, as I am too.
I believe I'll address your letter piecemeal and we'll see where it…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on December 17, 2016 at 10:05am — No Comments
“On its fourth anniversary, the tragedy remains fresh for so many. It's detractors, off on agendas of their own, should read this heartfelt expression...and Amy's connection to it. Like the national memories we carry of an event seven days earlier in a December seventy-five years further back in history, may we never forget these pressure points in life and give them their due.”
I wrote the paragraph above for Amy, a friend and fellow writer on the occasion of this anniversary of the…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on December 14, 2016 at 2:36pm — No Comments
While rummaging around in my kitchen quite recently, I came across a curious utensil. It had the shape of carrying tray, yet was so small as to certainly not be a tray. The handles were out-sized next to the size of the business end of the utensil, and reminded me of unusually large ears on an unusually small-headed person.
One could not carry a thing on it. It had no bottom. Instead, it had a center circle of metal perhaps five-eights of an inch in diameter from which radiated twelve…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on December 10, 2016 at 8:04am — No Comments
THE INVASION BEGAN - as it always did - in the last days of December. Our little town of five hundred would soon swell to two thousand. The boats would come as surely as one day follows the last. It’s not as if we didn’t have the room or need the money. It’s that our idyllic and nearly perfect lives were about to be disrupted. Our island paradise needed a shot in the arm and every year at this time that’s what it got.
As a practical matter, we had to pay a price. For the next month…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on December 3, 2016 at 10:14am — No Comments
GINGHA AND HER two companions walked slowly, single file and alert as they picked their way along a narrow ridge high above a low place. The smaller of the two walked between them, a younger in training, Gingha’s charge, and the other a seasoned warrior of her tribe. Behind them the sky darkened and when shadow fell on them, Gingha turned abruptly and looked to the sky. She stifled a gasp as an orange hue manifested in the coming storm.
“Quickly!” Gingha called. “Get under!…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on November 26, 2016 at 5:36am — No Comments
I'd like to introduce myself. I'm a relatively new member of CAPA and look forward to joining this community of dedicated writers. I attended the meeting yesterday in Avon featuring guest speakers Steve Reilly and Richard LaPorta on copyright issues. Fantastic talk.
I'd like to invite you to a blog created by three women that focuses on "The Wild" in all its various forms. (Okay, one of the women is my daughter, Lisa, a science writer who lives in Yellowstone…Continue
Added by Karen Elizabeth Baril on November 20, 2016 at 3:30pm — No Comments
THE LIFE I know today began with my birth. It doesn’t seem much to say, but I want you to know what happened before that. Before I was born, I enjoyed life in a place swimmingly confined and restricted, but really okay. I could kick around and turn over, stand on my head, lots of things.
Then, one day just like all the others, quite suddenly and totally without my permission, the quiescent muscles surrounding me started to work.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Thrown around and…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on November 19, 2016 at 7:58am — No Comments
THE MAN IN the red car drove down a dusty dirt road deep in the hills of northern Arkansas. He chuckled. That last sale two towns back, oh man, how he’d pulled one over. The commission would set him for a month.
I’m good, he thought, real good! He laughed again.
He passed a crossroad, woods to one side, cotton on the other. Three black kids, side of the road, looking at him, big eyes, expressionless, empty faces, strange, unnerving. Did I really see…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on November 12, 2016 at 6:04am — No Comments
Let's share our top book marketing successes in this blog. Why? Because writing the book is only half the work of an author; the other half is getting the attention of prospective buyers, namely, readers! So measure your success by your sales volume, not just the number of free copies you gave away or the number of hits on a website. We want sales.
My top 5 book marketing successes were:
1. Going to the local library and meeting with the person in charge. The library…Continue
Added by Beth Bruno on November 9, 2016 at 7:58am — No Comments
I have a wife. She’s the apple of my eye and she’s my friend and that’s good. I wish to pen some thoughts on marriage and relationships. I’m writing it for me, but there is always a danger that I might share it sometime. To share this with others requires that I write with others in mind. It changes the equation. To whom would I show my inner thoughts?…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on November 5, 2016 at 2:05pm — No Comments
I GLANCED AT the picture in my hand. It showed one of the wren houses I’d built in the spring of 2008 and hung in a nearby tree. A dead mouse dangled absurdly by its tail, evidently somehow caught in the intricately twig fashioned wren’s nest inside. I showed it to my wife and in a rather typical response, she said, “Ugh!”
For my part, my active mind took off for parts unknown and I conjured a fantasy.
At the end of the summer season on 10-17-2008 about the time of the…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on October 15, 2016 at 4:22am — No Comments
As I pieced it together from family history, September 21, 1938 dawned gray in Torrington, CT. Gram had just called from the old place up on Town Farm Road on the rotary dial and invited our little family for supper.
I have written this in story form to try and capture the moment, the danger and the excitement of that day.
Grandpa and Gram came up a couple of days before from their house in Hartford to get in the corn. The almost two hundred year old property in West Torrington…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on October 8, 2016 at 5:38pm — No Comments